


Devil's Snarl

by PrinceofLonely



Category: Poerty - Fandom
Genre: Dark, Demons, Lucifer - Freeform, Poerty, Satan - Freeform, Self-Conflicts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceofLonely/pseuds/PrinceofLonely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Me is me. You is you. Correct?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil's Snarl

**Author's Note:**

> just a little something to start off my account- wouldn't want my account to seem empty.

Thy finger tips dipped in blood, leave these solids around me to smudge and smear.  
Please have thy mercy for those who try to draw near.  
The demon within keeps himself quiet to thy, the walls.  
He shall come towards thee and crawl, crawl, crawl.  
Let him in, for he declares conjuring mishappenings to spell about.  
For shall we agree? Or fall down the same route?  
But by He, we shall fall for His decision.  
To trust who is evil, is to fall upon your knees for execution.

Open thy door, let the evil spiral within.  
The demon shall pay his respects, keep us kin.  
What hides under, under all that skin?  
Layers upon layers, of all your own sins.  
He reveals with nails scraped against your flesh, ravishing red.  
Do not move he says, or else you’d be dead.  
Become what was destined, thy become what is needed.  
Do you not know of the danger He had heeded?

Spell about your terrors, unravel in peace.  
You will never be able to uncover what will not be breached.  
Respect your vows, respect what He has done.  
You cannot hide, scream or run.  
Greys swirl across flats of your own, coloring you in true vibrants.  
You feel now small, but your height threatens giants.  
What has become of you? How will He accept you?  
Don’t worry, don’t worry he says. There are more of us too.

Tendrils curl and coil, sting and wrap around your stakes.  
They squeeze, crushing bone and matter of what makes.  
There is nothing left, but watch as thy fades to dust.  
Blood on the walls, making seem of rust.  
There is nothing left. What have you done to yourself?  
Red colors the floors and walls, entrails hanging of your shelf.  
The end has come, set the curtains down on the stage.  
You have been consumed by what you denied most; rage.

Welcome Dark. Abandon Light.  
Goodbye. Goodnight.


End file.
